Coming Back to You
by White-Rabbit-09
Summary: "Are you sure you should be here?" Post-Finale Fix-It. I loved the ending, but at the same time the Galex shipper in me needed to have closure :P SPOILERS, obviously.


At first, Alex was ok. She met Sam and Annie; sat and drank with Ray, Chris and Shaz. But after a while, the comfort of the pub began to feel almost oppressing. Every time she heard the door open, she turned hopefully – waiting for Gene to walk through. It was never him.

Time had no real meaning here. She spoke to the others about it and it transpired that they were all in a different minute. She was in 9.06, Ray was in 16.11, Chris was in 14.03 and Shaz was in 12.05. The times they died. It made a twisted sort of sense, but it gradually began to frustrate her more and more. She wanted to know how long it had been since she'd seen Gene, wanted to know how long her daughter had been without a mother.

She couldn't stop thinking about them. In a way, she was glad, she supposed. She was terrified that she would forget them both. The trouble was, it _hurt. _She missed them. The others seemed to be fine now – at peace with what had happened. The longer Alex spent _not_ being o.k. with it, the more uneasy she began to feel.

Alex stared at the drink in front of her and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The atmosphere around her was buzzing, everyone was smiling, the drinks were free, and she was surrounded by friends. By rights, she should have been ecstatic, but she couldn't shift the ache that had settled deep in her chest, no matter how hard she concentrated on the others.

The chair directly opposite her was always vacant, by an unspoken agreement. It was nice, she supposed, that the others knew that chair would be for Gene if – when? – he turned up, but it didn't stop her eyes resting on it for a little too long, making her miss him more.

-x-x-x-

Gene Hunt was slowly building a new team around him – his new D.I. had blundered in only minutes after his return into C.I.D. It hadn't been easy, but he'd been a lot like Sam, so he'd employed a similar introductory tactic. Andrew Harrett, his name was. Gene had to concede that he was good – but he wasn't the best. He knew he was biased – no one would ever quite measure up to Bolly _or _Sam in his eyes – but it was painfully obvious now just how helpful the psychology bollocks had been.

He had a new D.S. too – a Billy Court. He wasn't bad, a bit too stuck on the rules, but Gene knew that wouldn't last too long. It couldn't, not in this world. He still needed a D.C. but he was well aware that it wouldn't take long for one to arrive, and then he would have his team again... not quite his A-Team, but close enough.

But he was rattled. The memories that had been so painfully dragged to the forefront of his mind thanks to one DCI Jim Bastard Keats, and one DI Bolly Knickers were not as easily repressed this time around. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he was no longer surrounded by his team, his _friends. _He thought it was probably because if he forgot again, he would have to forget them –forget _her. _And he wasn't really prepared to do that. Not yet.

He didn't regret making her leave, as such. She would be happier there, more at peace. If she hadn't gone, she might never have, and she might have forgotten... and then had it all dragged back up in a few years, when this world needed to change; needed to help more lost coppers. But he did miss her. It had been something to look forward to, seeing her bony arse waggle its way around the office, and he missed the way his office had smelled a little like perfume, mixed in with all the whisky and fags.

He still saw her face, every so often. He'd shut his eyes, and there she'd be, smiling at him, shouting at him. He wanted her to go away, but at the same time he didn't. Still, not too long to dwell on it – scum to catch.

-x-x-x-

"Want another drink ma'am?" Chris asked Alex, and she glanced down in surprise at her already empty glass.

"Err... it's ok, Chris, I'll get them." She told him, getting to her feet. She didn't bother asking what the others wanted – she'd gotten to know their drink orders pretty well from the many nights in Luigi's, and besides Nelson seemed to have a bit of a sixth sense for those things.

She attempted a smile at Nelson as he made his way over to her, but she was aware that it was a poor effort.

"Are you cold, Alex?" He asked her, and she blinked at him in confusion. He nodded at the scarf, Molly's scarf, scrunched up in Alex's fingers. She hadn't put it down since Keats had handed it to her.

"Oh." She breathed, her chest constricting. "It's my... my dau... it's Molly's." She told him, her eyes filling with tears. "She's going to grow up without me, Nelson." She gasped, not really thinking about the words – she was too busy fighting as hard as she could to keep the tears at bay. He looked at her closely, the first time he had really done so since she had arrived here.

"Alex, are you sure you should be here?" He asked her seriously, all traces of an accent gone.

"What?" Alex asked.

"Are you sure you should be here? This is not the place to be if you haven't come to terms with what happened, Alex. And you don't sound like you've come to terms with it to me." She looked at him, then shook her head slowly.

"I just... I fought so hard, and now I have to accept that it was for nothing? That I... I'm... and that Gene is still out there? On his own, again?" She caught her breath. Nelson smiled at her sadly, and removed the wine from the tray of drinks he had placed in front of her.

"Your drink will be ready when you are, my friend." He told her, with a gesture to the door. She smiled.

"Thank you." She said, simply, and without a second glance to the team she was leaving, but was sure she would be back with soon enough, she left the Railway Arms and stepped back into life... or at least, into a form of it.

-x-x-x-

The latest case was a nasty one. 3 murders in as many weeks, and no real leads. Gene was beginning to get frustrated.

"Right, you lot. What have we got?" He demanded, striding into CID.

"Not a lot more, Guv." Court told him.

"I'm going to go down to the site again – question some people. Someone must have seen something." Harrett butted in. He scowled at them.

"What bloody use is that gonna do? What do we know about the actual murders? What about the bastard killer, for god's sake?" He demanded. The two policemen looked at him blankly.

"Well, what sort of a bloke are we looking for?" He stopped. "Oh, bloody hell, I've gone soft in the head – starting to think all that psychiatry crap can actually be of any use!" He stated to no-one in particular, striding back to his office.

"It's psy_chology._"

At first, Gene thought he was imagining it, but then he heard the soft click of heels against the lino floor and registered that the background muttering of CID had ground to a halt. He didn't dare to turn around, though, in case this was all in his head.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Harrett demanded. Gene bristled. If it _was _Bolly, then he was going to be the one to interrogate her, thank you very much. He turned around, and all the words he had imagined saying to her if he got to see her again stuck in his throat. She was there, _really_ there – all skinny jeans, and ridiculously impractical heels. Her hair was slightly longer, but the quiff was still in place. She still looked gorgeous, still looked like his Alex. Gene suddenly realised that he had been staring at her for a while now, and the silence in the office was beginning to get tense.

"Alex." He muttered, unable to say anything else. She smiled at him.

"Guv, who is this?" his latest DI asked, face riddled with confusion.

"This. Is D.I. Alex Drake." Gene told him, not taking his eyes from Alex's face. "I didn't think she'd be back with us."

"I wasn't ready to leave yet, Guv." She said, after a pause, her voice somehow managing to toe the line between affectionate and cold at the same time. He examined her expression carefully. It was immediately obvious that she was furious with him. He grinned. _Perfect._

-x-x-x-

Alex heard him before she saw him, shouting his mouth off about the latest case to a new group of troubled souls. She hovered outside the door, savouring his voice and wanting the moment she finally saw him again to be perfect. An opportunity presented itself quickly enough – he was complaining about how he had started to believe in all that bloody psychiatry stuff. Smiling to herself, she pushed open the door.

"It's psy_chology._" She told him, being sure to inject just enough anger into her voice. The reaction was delicious. Gene, who was on his way into his office, froze completely. The whole of CID went silent – largely wondering who this audacious woman was.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Demanded a skinny bloke in a white jacket, breaking the silence at last. She assumed he was the new D.I. Gene turned around then, and she wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms. Instead, though, she waited. He stared at her for what felt like months, but was actually only two minutes – she could tell, thanks to the working clock on the wall.

"Alex." He said, finally. She grinned, relief at being back still coursing through her.

"Guv, who is this?" The skinny bloke asked.

"This. Is D.I. Alex Drake. I didn't think she'd be back with us." Alex bristled at that. _He wouldn't, would he_? She thought. He sent her away, without really making sure that she was ready, and he was just going to leave her. Come to think of it, as nice as it was to be back, she was quite pissed off with him.

"I wasn't ready to leave yet, Guv." She told him after a second, glaring. He seemed to take in her expression then, and realise that she wasn't happy.

"Best step into my office then, eh Bolls?" He told her. She nodded.

-x-x-x-

Gene shut the final blind in his office and turned to look at Alex. She was leaning against his desk like she belonged there.

"Why'd you come back, Bolly?" He asked, because it was a very unorthodox course of action – even for Alex. Her eyes narrowed, and he knew straight away that he was in for a standard Alex Drake bollocking. He only hoped she wouldn't punch him.

"I wasn't _ready_ Gene!" She hissed. "And who were _you_ to decide that I was? I had only just found out that I was _dead, _that my daughter is going to grow up without her mother, and that the last words I said to her were a _lie. _I had to accept all of that, and lose you as well, all in the space of five minutes, because you _manipulated me._ You used the fact that you know how to make me feel like everything'll be alright, the fact that you make me feel _safe_ to get me to _believe you._ And it was a bloody lie, Gene! It was! I sat in there, feeling just as lost and scared as the first day I was here. _I. Wasn't. Ready!" _Her voice had been getting steadily louder, and by the time she finished she was all but screaming at him. Gene had just been watching her as she let off steam, but now he moved towards her.

"Who am I to decide if you're ready Bolls?" He asked her incredulously. "That's my bloody _job._ That's why I'm here, it's what I do. Alright, I lost sight of it for a while, but now I _know_ and you _had_ to go Alex. Because if you didn't , you'd come back here, and you'd get settled, and you'd _forget. _Until some bastard like Keats showed up again, and made you remember, and you would have hated me for it Bolls! I wanted to you find peace, you bloody mentalist." He told her. She didn't respond, just stared at him. There were tears in her eyes, and she was trying so hard to keep herself in check it was almost painful.

Sighing, he pulled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms. She immediately crumpled, crying into his shirt.

"I wasn't _ready_. And you need me. You might not know it or want to admit it but you _do. _You can't keep doing this on your own." She mumbled into his chest.

"You'll probably forget everything, Alex. And it hurts like hell when you remember, believe me." He warned her. She shook her head.

"No, I won't. You can help me to remember, and I can help you." She told him, pulling away.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked her. "Because if you're not, I can take you back, right now." She didn't say anything, but she put her hand over his heart. It was racing.

"It's beating." She whispered, smiling. He placed his hand over her heart too – not quite in a mirror image of where they had stood three years before, because he wasn't groping her quite so blatantly and he thought there was less chance of him being punched this time around, but close enough.

"So is yours." He told her. She took a step closer to him, eyes heavy lidded, and dark with lust. Gene's breath caught in his throat and his eyes fell shut of their own accord. Alex bought her hand up to his cheek, and then pressed her lips to his.

The feel of him pressed tightly against her was like coming home, she was almost dizzy with the relief. His arms were around her now, and she was glad of it because she didn't think she still had the capacity to stand. His tongue slid into her mouth, mapping every corner of her mouth. She gave as good as she got, one hand fisted in the coarse material of his jacket, the other playing with the fine strands of his hair.

"Well then Bollinger Knickers." He murmured when they finally broke apart, "Best make yourself useful, eh? Get your bony arse out there and get up to speed on the case. Much as it pains me to admit it, I think we might need your psychological crap on this one."

Alex nodded, and then turned and walked back into the CID office, making a beeline for her old desk – which had somehow been left vacant. She smiled as she took in the room, the familiar buzz of the checkerboard lights, the smell of cigarettes – the only thing missing was the sight of Ray, Chris and Shaz, she thought with a pang of sadness. But Gene was here, and the new recruits meant the office wasn't depressingly empty. Besides, she reasoned with herself, she knew all three of them were safe, and happy – and that she'd drink with them when she was ready.

She ran her hands over the smooth wood of her desk, lightly touching the carving of 6620, which she knew she would never fix, and almost hugged herself with the delight at how real it all was. It might not be life, but it was close enough.

Alex didn't have too long to stand in her reverie, however, as the doors to CID were thrown open, and a young man – early 20's, if she had to guess – stumbled in, looking absolutely terrified.

"What the _hell_ is going on? Who are you people? And where are all the computers – there's important case information on them, we _need_ them!" He babbled. Alex smiled gently at him, but he was too distracted to notice – which was fair enough, she reasoned. She suddenly became aware of someone standing behind her, and she turned to face them. Gene was watching the new bloke carefully.

"Looks like we've got our new D.C. then." He told her. She nodded.

"He's terrified, Guv." She stated, needlessly.

"They always are." He reminded her. "He'll be settled soon enough. That," He said, with a slight gesture, "Is our team. Won't be a patch on the last, but we'll soon whip 'em into shape, eh, Alex? Together." His voice was still a little unsure, although she would have thought the kiss in his office would have made the fact that she intended on staying for a while quite clear.

"Unbreakable." She whispered and he nodded, holding her gaze.

"Oh, come _on,_ this is isn't funny anymore! I need my phone, I need to get hold of my DCI and get you lot _out of my office."_ The new bloke growled, and the moment was lost.

"Right then, Bolls. Work to do."


End file.
